Regrowth
by Winged'Pollution
Summary: With a a future that's filled with war, a former courier travels the Mojave and is confronted by her forgotten past. Eventual F!Courier/Vulpes, implied F!LW/Charon
1. How Little We Know

_Whoo, another fandom switch! I'm getting whiplash! Let's get this show on the road, and don't forget to REVIEW!_

_W'P_

_-O-_

A skinny, very young man sat a dilapidated picnic bench in the shade of a tent. He fiddled with his brand-new machete, hands quivering in anxiety. It was his first day on patrol. He had thought he was ready; he's not. He can't do it. He needs something to calm him down. Anything, anyone. Talking with someone would help, he thought. It actually might help a lot to take his mind off of things.

A couple men, just getting off their rounds, sat down at the other end of the table. One of them was a Decanus, it was clear by the helm. The other was leaner and a simple Praetorian guard. He knew neither of their names.

"Salve." He greeted, trying to urge the shakiness from his tone and failing.

"Salve." They both replied with little enthusiasm. The Praetorian looked him over. "You're a rather green one, aren't you?"

"I just finished training two days ago." The recruit answered as respectfully as possible.

The veterans both let out partially amused chuckles. "Need to shake away the nerves?" The scarf worn over his mouth muffled the Decanus' speech.

"Er…"

"Of course you do. I did on my first day as a legionnaire." The Praetorian said lightly, but quietly. Social visits were allowed but frowned upon. "I heard Inculta was ordered down to Nipton, just this morning."

"Wow—uh, I mean, really? Serves them right, I suppose…"

"He took the Hydra with him, too, I heard." The Decanus added, scratching under his headdress.

"Yes, but when does he not?" The guard rolled his eyes a little, breaking official form.

"What is, um, Hydra?" The recruit didn't like the sound of that. The name was Latin, implying membership to the Legion, but he had never heard of who or what they were speaking of.

"Hydra is Vulpes Inculta's shadow." The Decanus said ominously. He leaned forward conspiratorially, and the other two men followed suit. Social chatting was allowed, now and then—gossip about high-ranked members was punishable by lashes. "He never leaves the camp without his shadow. Some say Hydra was killed and came back to life to serve Caesar and almighty Mars. Others, that Hydra's head was chopped off, and it grew back just like the myth."

"Why have I never heard of him?" The green recruit whispered.

"Three reasons." The Praetorian held up the corresponding number of fingers. "The first is, Hydra is Inculta's right hand. And Inculta is the head of the Frumentarii."

"The second reason," The Decanus went on. "Is you are a new recruit. Most green soldiers do not learn of the Hydra for days or weeks."

"And the third?" The young man asked reverently, leaning in even further.

"The most important reason, which you must never speak of to other greens you associate with." The Decanus lowered his voice so it was almost inaudible. "Hydra is a woman."

-O-

Smoke billowed in light clouds from the burning town. Former town. Legion flags were tied up on staffs around the town hall, the yellow bulls shaking in the breeze. Lining the street were crucifixes holding the still living townspeople. Several Legion guards stood around, headed by a man with tinted goggles and the skin of a dog over his head, and features that were pale but sharp as a fox. Behind him a woman stood casually, arms crossed and green eyes glinting. Her ginger hair was shaved sloppily on one side and hanging away on the other. Her forehead had a clear, circular, bullet-shaped mark in dead centre. At her heels was a wild-eyed and dirty hound.

"You mean I'm free? I won?!" A young, obnoxious man with small glasses said ecstatically. In his hands was clutched a little slip of paper.

"Yes." The fox-faced man said. "You are the winner of our lottery. And you may now go free, on one condition: you must tell all you meet of what has happened here, of what you and your…_loved ones _have suffered. Make sure they know of the power the Legion possesses."

The kid nodded vigourously, his glasses hopping off his nose. "Hell yeah, man! I'll tell anyone who'll listen!" He whooped with joy, turned and ran down the street, away from them.

"Are you sure I can't kill him, Vulpes?" The woman drawled, leaning forward slightly to speak to her immediate superior.

"Yes, I am sure, Hydra." He replied, turning his head slightly. "Someone has to tell the profligates what we've done here, or it will be for nothing."

"Damn." She muttered, watching the retreating form of the kid. Vulpes' mouth twitched in amusement. "Now that the fun part is over, are we going back to the Fort?"

Vulpes nodded and began walking down the main road. "The captured must be brought in to Caesar and tested."

Hydra followed, the frumentarii marching obediently after them. "Such dull work."

-O-

"_What_?" The soldier hissed. "How is that possible? A woman?"

"Nay. A demon." The superstitious Decanus grumbled. "An underworldly vixen wrapped in the skin of a mortal. Sent to Earth by Mars, to test our resolve."

"But, how did she get into the Legion?"

"Caesar took an interest in her several months ago." The Praetorian explained as the Decanus mumbled a prayer against evil under his breath in Latin. "She was a courier, if any of the rumours are true. Found the Legion and rose with…suspicious speed through the ranks. She's the ring on Caesar's left hand."

"A ring laced in poison." The Decanus ended his prayer and spat out the words like they were the poisoned ones.

"Quiet!" The Praetorian looked over his shoulder. "Do you have a death wish? If any of the frumentarii—if Inculta got word of that…we would _all_ be crucified."

"Why?" The green asked. "Are they…"

"No," The guard replied lowly. "He openly values her as his second. But do not let any of the frumentarii hear this. Everything makes its way up to Inculta and his snake. If either were to know of such gossip we would all be dead before the next sun."

"Come, _frater._" The Decanus stood and gestured for the Praetorian to do the same. "We should be off before this whelp has our heads. Vale."

"Vale." The initiate replied in kind, and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. That had not helped his nerves, of that he could be sure.


	2. Ain't That A Kick In The Head

"_The past is strapped to our backs. We do not have to see it; we can always feel it." -Mignon McLaughlin_

Things were pretty good until the visions started.

Hydra, for one, enjoyed her position of limited power but astronomical fame in the Legion. Everyone knew her name, if not her face, and having a bullet wound in ones head certainly did wonders for ones renown.

So, things were pretty good.

And then she started seeing things. She would rather die before admitting it, but they frightened her. Flashes of white buildings, a ruined museum, American flags and for some reason a recurring image of light coming over an edge, or a spotlight being revealed. It felt like there was something nagging in the back of her head that wanted to come through. But she would be damned if she let it.

-O-

The merchant kneeled before Caesar, besieging him to put a more strict guard on the roads by his farm after several brahmin had been killed by raiders. Caesar listened to his pleas with the neutral pose of a dictator. Lucius and Vulpes stood on either side of the throne in stoic but bored formality, watching the ongoing negotiation without a single complaint despite the burning sun. Behind the latter, true to her nickname, Hydra stood in Vulpes' shadow with Hades—a mongrel that followed her with unreal loyalty—at her heel. Several Praetorian guards stood around as well, as their only duty was to protect the Caesar.

The farmer was granted an extra patrol in his town for three of his brahmin and a portion of his corn harvest, which the farmer felt was more than generous and adamantly agreed to. He was escorted out of the tent, and the assembled relaxed from their formal positions. Lucius walked back into the tent, intent on poring over maps.

"It's so hot…" Hydra grumbled, putting a hand up to block the sun.

"Quiet." Vulpes muttered. It was bad enough she was a woman in the Legion. She couldn't just act however she wanted.

"You are feeling rather cheery, bone vir." She replied, giving Hades a rough but affectionate slap to the side.

"It would serve you well to know when to hold your tongue." He said, very quietly. "Not all here are so forgiving as me when it concerns your gender."

"Well, it's good that you're on my side, then." She smirked back, earning reprimanding look in response. "I know that, bone vir. I know more than most when it comes to women in the Legion."

"Then demonstrate it." Vulpes said lowly.

Hydra shrugged. "I will consider it. For now, I believe I need to feed this mutt that's been following me."

"Very well, go." He made a shoo-ing motion with his hand. "Return before sundown. I have an assignment that needs doing."

"Of course, bone vir." She bowed to her superior, and then to Caesar. "Vale."

Hydra walked with no rush out of the tent, Hades panting contentedly alongside her. Her tent was in the training grounds, for she found the sound of clashing blades and the smell of dust to both be appealing. It was small but still slightly larger than most. A shield with a green two-headed snake was over the door. She paused at the door and looked over her shoulder. The tent adjacent fluttered.

Hydra stepped around her tent, going to the back by the Fort's walls. She saw the flicker of a shadow through the canvas of the tent, and crooked a finger. There was a pause, and then a young, skinny legionary emerged from the back door.

He stared at her shamelessly for a moment before starting and bowing. "Salve."

"Isn't there something you should be doing?" Hydra asked sternly.

"Yes, of course." The legionary, who was dressed in the armour of a recruit, seemed to be a pretty green one at that. He bowed again. "I…heard rumours of a woman in the Legion, and wished to see if they were true."

"Do you know the punishment for insubordination and neglecting your duty?"

"…Yes. Forgive me." He bowed a third time, looking anxious to get away.

"Do not worry yourself so." Hydra said comfortingly, but the ruse was dropped as her hand flashed up. The recruit drew back with a breath of surprise, holding his cheek. Three parallel scratches now cut across his face, leaking a tiny bit of blood, but otherwise harmless. "I believe you have paid a sufficient price. Now, get out of my sight before I loose the hound on you." Hades growled as though to make a point.

The recruit held a hand to his cut face, apparently shocked he was still alive. "Of course, er, domina. Thank you, domina." He backed away a few steps before turning and striding hurriedly away.

Hydra stalked back into her tent with a whoosh of cloth. The tent was basic, with a bed, footlocker, and two small chests for armour and food. The only remarkable thing there was the shelf stacked full with small vials of greenish, watery liquid. She took a flask from her belt and emptied one of the vials into it.

"Cheers." She said to Hades, who glowered at her as she drank her toxic mixture. It burned her tongue and then her throat, but tasted spicy and generally good. Catching the dog's moody look, she sighed. "Fine, you greedy bastard." She reached into the food chest and brought out a bloody brahmin steak that she unwrapped from its newspaper covering and tossed at Hades. He dug into the meat with vicious gusto, tearing apart the scarlet muscles.

"How long do you give the kid?" She asked him, sitting on the bed. The mongrel paid her no mind, snapping down a piece of fat. Outside, there were surprised yells and scuffling. "Ah," Hydra said. "I would say no time at all."

She stood and walked out, observing the scene going on. The young recruit was convulsing on the ground, whitish foam bubbling at his mouth. A few Praetorians were calling out for "the medicine slave wench" and watching the dying man with the grim faces of those who had seen many die before.

It didn't take long for Siri to arrive with healing powders and salves. Hydra stepped out, knowing their medicine could do nothing against the poison now coursing through his blood. She waltzed casually away, observing her sharp fingernails and licking the bloodied ones off. Ahead of her, she could see Vulpes standing outside of Caesar's tent.

Hydra sighed, scratching her scalp. Hades cantered up to her, his mouth stained with blood and strings of meat, a bone in his large teeth. She walked up to Vulpes, who crossed his arms in clear disapproval. "What did you do?"

"Nothing of import. Some insubordinate whelp was following me, so I…clawed him." Hydra wiggled her fingers. "Radscorpian toxin. Very useful."

"You…clawed him." Vulpes sighed and ran a hand down his face, muttering something about women. "Very well, very well…just take your assignment and let this situation blow over. You know of Martina Groesbeck?"

"The informant girl, yes."

"She has been confronted with some trouble concerning the Omertas. This is a…basic mission for someone of your talents, but you need to find her on the Strip and assure that they do not kill her. She's staying, to my knowledge, at Vault 22."

Hydra resisted the urge sigh. "Is that all, bone vir?"

"Watch your tone. Yes, that is all. Be on your way before you get pinned down for yet another crime you have committed here."

Hydra looked like she was about to retort, but stopped herself at the thought of scores of lashes. Jaw tight, she bowed. "Yes, bone vir. Vale."

"Vale." As she left, a Praetorian stepped out of Caesar's tent and quietly said something to Vulpes, who disappeared back inside.

Hydra stalked out of the camp, past the troops' tents. She passed the female slaves, walking heavily with huge weights of rubbish on their backs up and down the massive hill. Through the drawbridge and across the trench to the boatman, whose name she had never cared to learn due to her hatred for him.

"Salve." She greeted coldly, and got a cold reply in return.

"Salve, woman. Take your weapons before we depart." He nodded to a Praetorian guard, who handed her the machete and the .22 pistol she used. Hydra nodded in thanks and followed the boatman down the pier.

She stepped into the boat and sat with an intensely bored expression. Hades bounded in after her, making himself comfortable on her lap despite his massive size. However, the boatman had not yet gotten in, and was rather watching the hill leading up to the Fort. Hydra turned to look just in time for Vulpes to climb into the boat with her.

"Salve…" She greeted in mild surprise, patting Hades' back so he would lie down. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Caesar has decided that after your little…stunt, I am to accompany you on your assignments until you are no longer suspected of being an enemy of the Legion." Vulpes looked even unhappier about this than her.

"I am…suspected of being an enemy? Me, since when?" Hydra asked incredulously.

"Since the boy recruit makes it your fifth kill in the Fort of one of our own. Since you were a woman. Since you were an agent trained in subterfuge and secrecy. Since you rose through the Legion so quickly. Caesar has many reasons not to trust you, so I am to accompany you."

"This is ridiculous." Hydra folded her arms crossly. The boat had begun to move, drifting across the lake. "Like I am a child who needs a caretaker. It is insulting."

"It was what you deserve." Vulpes said sternly. "Being my second and a skilled fighter is what has kept you alive."

"I would never betray Caesar and blaspheme the almighty Mars." Hydra vowed passionately, glaring at him. "It is absurd to even suggest it."

"It is not my choice." He replied, making a motion for her to lower her voice. "If it was, I would not be here."

She made a grumbling noise, looking to the shore of the river as it grew larger and closer. Cottonwood Cove was visible, the little tents and buildings defining themselves. "Bloody mad is what it is."

The boat drifted up to the pier, and Hydra climbed out before it stopped moving, making it rock and splash in the filthy water. Vulpes followed her, leaving the boatman. She walked briskly away, tapping furiously at her Pip-Boy. New Vegas was at least a day away, moving fast, and it didn't improve her mood. Hades, happy to be away from the Fort, ran ahead and then back, jumping around her in excitement. She snapped her fingers and pointed ahead with a quick whistle, and the hound was off in a flash of ragged fur.

Once out of sight, Hydra turned back on Vulpes so quick she almost snapped her heels. "Pardon me, bone vir, but I must speak my mind." At his nod, she continued. "I am no traitor nor will I ever be, but outside of the Legion I live a very different life."

"Of course." Vulpes said, as though it were understood. "All frumentarii are skilled in disguise and infiltration. Even I take on the guise of a dissolute citizen when the need arises."

"That is not what I mean. I am a different person entirely. Things are expected of me when I re-enter the world. There are…friends I must see and places where I am not known as the Hydra you see now. I tell you this so you do not mistake this other person as who I am and decide to report this "treachery" to Caesar. And my persona begins with this." She held out her wrist, where the Pip-Boy was glowing green.

Vulpes listened to this patiently and then said, "Why would I suspect you of treachery in this endeavor?"

Hydra looked briefly amused. "Knowing the Legion, they would suspect me of witchcraft. It's in reality no more than complex science. Now, put your hand on my shoulder." At his look, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just hold my shoulder and don't let go for anything." She whistled loudly, and Hades came tearing back toward her over a crest. He sprinted up and put his paws on her belly. Hydra wrapped an arm around him and used her other hand to tap the Pip-Boy.


	3. I Hear You Knocking

"_I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them." -Mark Twain_

_-o-_

The world was twisting and writhing in a greenish, beige and black whirlpool. Hydra's body was warping and her bones were dissolving, an iron grip on her shoulder. It didn't hurt, but was profoundly unpleasant, like being incinerated in acid and reassembled at the same time.

As soon as it started it was over, and she and Vulpes were both gasping outside the gate to the Strip. Hades whined and nosed the ground, rolling over the scratch his back.

"I have not travelled like that…" Hydra put her hands on her knees, retching. "In a long time."

"What…" Vulpes was trying to cover the fact that he was in even worse shape than her. "In the name of Mars was that?"

"Science. Horrid stuff, no?" Hydra almost grinned and held up her wrist, stretching.

She took a few deep breaths and started down an alley, counting her steps. After fifty paces, she knelt at a paving stone and lifted it. Underneath was a hole dug into the ground, containing a set of folded clothes and a comb with a few missing teeth. She brought them out and, checking to make sure the alley was clear, promptly stripped down and began tugging on normal clothes. Vulpes made a choked noise and she looked up to see him turning away.

"Men…" She muttered with a quirk of the mouth, zipping her halfed leather jacket over some warm, red jumper-like thing that showed her scarred midriff. After getting dressed, she combed her hair and immediately ruffled it up again. "Now," She passed a hand over her face and smiled. "I have to make a visit to the Old Mormon Fort."

"You have an assignment to do." Vulpes turned around hesitantly, and seeing that she was dressed, faced her. "Neglecting your duties is not going to raise your status in the Legion or with Caesar."

"Oh, please, Vulpes." Hydra waved a hand, strutting past him in a demeanor so radically different that he couldn't be sure a different person ran in and took her place while his back was turned. "You really think it takes me two weeks to do these missions you give me? The longest took a day, and I spent half of that on my arse. Unlike you, I actually spend my time making connections so people don't think I'm some Legion sociopath. I am, of course, but that's the point."

"I am still in Legion garb." Vulpes said dryly. "Would you like to parade me through Freeside as such?"

"Oh, right," Hydra walked back to the hole where her things were stashed and removed a man's suit and hat. She tossed them back at him. "Get changed, quickly now. I'll be at Fort. If you get bored, go to the Lucky 38 and hang out at the Presidential Suite. If anyone asks, tell them Cotton sent you."

"_Cotton?_ It is no wonder the Legion doubts the skills of a woman."

"It's short for Cottonmouth. Like the snake. I find it to be an appropriate cover name considering my usual title. See you at the Fort."

-O-

"Arcade, dear, how are you?" Hydra walked up to her friend, arms out. The doctor looked up from his clipboard as she approached, and briefly embraced her. He looked down at a happy Hades and gave the dog a scratch behind the ears.

"Hi, Cotton. How are you? Haven't seen you around these parts in a while. I need my monthly dosage of sarcasm." He smiled at her.

"Oh, you certainly know how to treat a lady." Hydra chuckled, rolling her eyes. "I'm fine, you know, despite the whole apocalypse thing."

"There it is! I feel much better now. Oh, there's that crazy boy." He grinned at Hades, who bounced and circled around him. "So, what brings you back down here? Back to test some experimental drugs?"

She laughed, knowing he was only partially joking. "I was popping in to see how you crazy kids are faring without me. Looks like you're not having any life-threatening issues?"

"Not _yet_." He corrected with a grin that could only be described as mischievous. "Oh, someone came looking for you the other day. At least, we _think _he was looking for you. He continually asked for a woman who had been a courier carrying the Platinum Chip. He was a ghoul, huge guy, at least seven feet. You know him?"

Hydra blinked, images flickering behind her eyes. "No, I don't know who it could be. Where is he now?"

"He went looking for you on the Strip, I think. I'd be surprised if he got in, because then he must be very rich, very violent or very clever. And I think we'd have heard if someone started slaughtering all the Securitrons outside."

Hydra chuckled again, and caught a figure in the corner of her eye. "Oh, Arcade. This is my good friend, um…Vincent. Vince, this is Arcade Gannon, one of the doctors here at the Mormon Fort."

Arcade smiled politely and shook Vulpes' hand. "Good to meet you, and good luck. This one's a handful."

"Yes, I've gotten that impression." Vulpes glanced sideways at his charge, who pursed her lips and looked back to Arcade.

"Well, we'd better be off." She said brightly. "So nice catching up. Maybe I'll meet that ghoul while I'm on the Strip. Ta!"

"See ya later, Cotton." The doctor waved at them. Hydra took Vulpes' arm and started out of the fort.

"How did any of that benefit us?" Vulpes asked her, leaning down to talk quietly as they passed the Kings.

"It benefits us greatly." Hydra muttered back. She stepped over a large gash in the concrete pavement. "We now know that a skilled doctor is still alive, and more importantly, that someone is looking for me." As they approached the gate to the Strip, she waved to the main Securitron, who allowed them to pass.

The city was gleaming and cheerful as always, the opposite of the depressed, crime-ridden Freeside. People in fancy clothes strutted the streets like primped peacocks and painted hens, chins up in confidence after gambling and drinking to their hearts' content. Prostitutes advertised the Gomorrah with sultry voices on the street corner. The Lucky 38 was relatively dark, but just as inviting as the other casinos. New Vegas really was the eye of the storm—things were bad, but much, much better than the rest of the Wastes.

"Vault 21, was it?" Hydra mused. "I never much cared for it. Made me feel very…paranoid."

"Old world technology." Vulpes said with no lack of scorn.

"That must be it."

They walked through the secondary gate, revealing the flashing Tops and the classy Ultra-Lux. There was group of women dancing naked in the Ultra-Lux fountain, and several NCR officers and Securitrons were attempting to talk them out. From their threats of expulsion from the Republic, the women were apparently also officers—very, very drunk officers. They ran out of the fountain, giggling and coaxing the men. The ladies ran right in from of Hydra and Vulpes, leaving wet footprints on the pavement on their way to the Tops. The distressed NCR officers ran after them, yelling in panic.

Hydra chuckled at the scene. "Is that why the Legion doesn't include women?"

"I suppose that could be a factor. Although that scenario would end up very unfortunately for the women involved." Vulpes gave her a pointed look, and she laughed.

"Do not worry, bone vir. I am not an idiot. I know better than to run around the Fort naked with a population of mainly men. I actually have to know better than to run around fully dressed with a population of mainly men." They stepped through the third gate, which led to Vault 21.

The low, nondescript hotel wasn't nearly as flashy as the others. It was for tourists who didn't have the caps to afford even the Tops. The inside was covered in old pro-Vault posters from before the bombs fell and other such memorabilia. Coffee mugs, jumpsuits, terminals, you name it.

A blond woman was working behind the counter, and looked up. "You two need a room? Finest Vault experience you'll ever find."

"Oh, no." Hydra giggled. "Just seeing the sights, you know." She grinned stupidly, but put her hand on her belt, at her machete.

"Oh, I see." The proprietor nodded nervously and smiled fakely. "Please, go on ahead. Enjoy the Vault!"

"Thanks so much!" Hydra tugged Vulpes along, letting go of his arm and walking purposely down to the underground Vault. The halls were low and cold, made of steel. It was clean, though, cleaner than most of the wastes. It took some serious wandering around to find the room that Martina was renting out. It was clear which was hers as they approached. Three Gomorrah agents were crowded by the door, advancing on the girl with guns drawn.

Hydra didn't hesitate in drawing her machete. She walked up to the agent that looked to be the leader and tapped his shoulder. He turned, irritated. "What do you want? Can't you see we're dealing business here?"

"I want you to leave and never come back." She threatened.

"Oh, yeah? And why should I listen to you, lady?"

She nodded back to Vulpes, drawing her machete just to make a point. "We're with the Legion. You want the wrath of Caesar on the Gomorrah?"

"Okay, okay." The agent put away his gun and held up his hands. "We didn't know she was with the Legion. We'll leave her be." He beckoned to the other agents, and the three men walked out.

Martina looked at them, calming down from her clear terror, hugging herself. Hydra raised a hand in greeting, and a flicker of recognisation flashed in her eyes. She quickly bowed, twice for each of them. The two left the Vault, nodding to the blond woman as they went. To keep up appearances, Hydra took Vulpes' arm once they got back out onto the Strip.

"Is that truly all I had to do?" She asked him once they were outside. "That was insultingly easy."

"I know, but I knew you would carry it out with ease." Vulpes replied, opening the gate to the main section of the Strip. "It was an assignment that would…well, keep you busy while we investigated your loyalty. Caesar has, apparently, found a more satisfying solution to that."

"That is why you are here, then. Hm…" She looked to the left, at the red-and-yellow flashing Tops. "Would you mind? Someone I need to say hello to, again."

Vulpes did a good job at not looking annoyed. "Very well. Who is it this time?"

"The man who shot me in the head." Hydra pushed open the door.

The usual receptionist grinned at her, teeth nearly gleaming. "Hey, baby doll, you know the drill."

"Couldn't you make an exception for lil' ol' me?" She batted her eyelashes, but taking off her weapons, knowing no amount of flirting, persuasion or bartering would help.

"Sorry, baby, you gotta obey the rules like everyone else. Same goes for your date here." He nodded to Vulpes, who handed over his own machete. "Thanks, you two. Have a good time."

"You seem to be on familiar terms with most of New Vegas." Vulpes observed, looking around the casino. "That itself is…unexpected."

"Why, did you not clearly see the blooming social butterfly beneath this tough outer shell?" Hydra smirked and shook her head, keeping her voice down. "Clearly the Legion needs to improve their intelligence gathering, bone vir." Her cheeky grin widened. "Or I am just very, very good."

"It could be both."

"Oh, stop it." She looked across the casino to see a familiar figure in a classic checkered suit, talking to someone and accompanied by Chairmen as always. "Ah, there he is! My very own Death on two feet." Hydra walked over to Benny, who looked up at her.

"Hey, pussycat. Been a while, how ya been?" Benny smiled that cheeky half-smirk. "Takin' care of yourself?"

"Always, Benny. Staying out of trouble, I hope? You wouldn't want me coming down here to keep an eye on you _all _the time, would you? I have more jobs than just babysitter."

"Hey, runnin' half the Strip ain't easy, sister." He joked, and jerked a thumb at the guy he was talking to. "Look at this fink, for instance. Keeps askin' after you, 'course, I don't know where you are most of the time."

Hydra gave the bloke a look up and down. He was very tall, at least a foot above her, and she wasn't really short. He was a ghoul, and had little scraps of ginger hair still clinging to his head. Lean muscle was exposed in the torn patches of skin, and he stood with the stature of a predatory animal. He seemed sort of vaguely familiar, like he'd passed her in a crowd somewhere, but she couldn't place where. Hades sniffed his leg but didn't seem put off, so she put on her best smile and held out her hand.

"Yes, I've heard you've been looking for me!" Hydra greeted. "I'm Cottonmouth, but you can just call me Cotton. Everybody else does. And you are…?"

"Charon." The ghoul answered after a short pause and shook her hand. "I…have some things to discuss with you."

"Oh, I'm afraid I've only just stopped in to say hi to Ben here." Hydra gestured to Benny, but shrugged and beckoned. "Well, I suppose I can talk and walk. Come on, Vincent and I were just about to leave the Strip. Good seeing you, Benny."

"You too, pussycat. Don't go getting into too much trouble." The Tops owner patted her shoulder as she left.

"You know me." She replied cryptically, calling over her shoulder. Benny waved a hand and shook his head. She and Vulpes got their weapons from the receptionist, who also gave Charon back a large shotgun.

The three walked out calmly but wordlessly, Hades trotting along beside them. Hydra led them across the street to the Lucky 38. The inside of the casino was almost empty, except for a few Securitrons. Hydra called the lift and waited for it to come down. It was an awkward silence. The doors _ding_ed open and they stepped inside. She hit the button for the Presidential Suite and the doors closed again. This silence was awkward as well, and she sincerely hoped that Vulpes was on the same mental wave as her, and didn't just kill the ghoul. It seemed she was correct, as when they stepped into the suite, no one pulled out a weapon right away. Hades ran inside happily and made a beeline for the bedroom to roll around on the bed.

"Let's use the kitchen." Hydra suggested, and led the men to the room. A long dining table was set up with empty glasses and plates. She sat down, and Vulpes took the seat beside her, looking impatient. Charon sat across from them. "So, why have you been looking for me?"

"Do you remember me?" The ghoul asked.

"No."

"I thought not. What do you remember of D.C?"

"D.C?" Hydra still kept up her persona, though it was slipping, as she grew irritated. "Can't say I've ever been there."

Charon looked at least a little surprised. "You mean you remember nothing?"

"Nothing of what?"

Charon looked at her, and seemed to notice the bullet scar in her forehead. A glaze of realisation came over him, and he sat back in his chair. "I see." He reached to his belt and set a folded piece of paper on the table between them.

Hydra grabbed it and read it over. "'Whomever holds this contract…' What is this?"

"My contract." Charon explained. "You purchased it from the previous holder in Washington, D.C. I am under oath to do whatever you wish of me, and two years ago you left on a job to deliver a Platinum Chip. You told me that if you did not return in one year, I was to find you."

"So that is why you have come looking. Intriguing." Hydra folded the paper. "You knew me before this?" She touched her forehead.

"Yes. Very well. I was your…bodyguard for three years."

"How do I know you are telling the truth?"

"Why would I walk across the country to lie to you?"

"Fair enough." Hydra held out her hand. "You may call me Hydra. This is my superior officer, V—er..." She actually trailed off, and switched her language to Latin to speak to Vulpes. "I am not sure if I should tell him your name. You're even more infamous than I, and there is more than likely a bounty on your head."

"Tell him what you wish. He cannot kill both of us at once." Vulpes answered in the same language, and they turned back to Charon.

"As I was saying, this is my superior officer, Vulpes Inculta." Hydra tilted her head slightly to him. "Now, about this contract. Am I still the holder after two years' hiatus?"

Charon hesitated. "I'm not sure. No one has ever _not_ held the contract before, and I'm not permitted to read it."

Hydra scanned through the tiny, faded and cursive handwriting. "Here," She pointed to a section in the second paragraph. "It states that if no one holds the contract for a full year, it negates to the last person who held it." She rubbed the tallow paper. "So, you are mine now, correct?"

"Yes." Charon answered obediently.

"And you will answer any questions I ask you?"

"To the best of my ability."

"Why did I leave to the Mojave for the courier job?"

"The money." Charon answered immediately, causing Hydra to smirk. "We needed caps and you saw it as an opportunity."

"Yes, that sounds like you." Vulpes added, getting a bark of dry laughter from her.

"Thank you kindly, bone vir." She stood and brushed off her arse of dust, and tucked the contract into her pocket. "Charon, what was my name before?"

"You called yourself Venom, although I believe your true name was—"

"What is with me and snakes? That would be a psychologist's dream." Hydra cut the ghoul off before he could go further, though why, she didn't know. "Come along, boys. Charon, refer to me as Cotton while on the Strip, and to Vulpes as Vincent."

"As you wish." He intoned back in a voice that said he had repeated those words many times.

"We will not be in the Strip much longer, anyway." Vulpes said sternly, and Hydra nodded.

"Yes, I have no more troublesome social visits to make. Now, if you would both hold my shoulder, we can—"

"No." Vulpes said immediately. "Nothing you say will convince me to use that…_thing_ ever again. We can walk back to Cottonwood Cove."

"But…"

"Keep in mind, Hydra, that I am still ranked above you, wherever we may be. And we _will _be walking."

Hydra sighed. "Of course, bone vir." She gave him a small bow and salute, just as a show of respect. Charon looked shocked, but said nothing. Hades joined up with them as the lift opened and they piled inside. Hydra led them back through the Tops to retrieve their weapons, and then back to Freeside. She counted her steps again to find her and Vulpes' armour under the pavement stone, but didn't put it on. She tossed Vulpes his armour and took hers, and pushed the stone back into place.

-O-

"Ahh." Hydra sighed, adjusting the hem of her tunic. Neither she nor Vulpes had bothered putting on the armour plates, as night was falling quickly. "Much better."

She sat by the small campfire they had going, and Hades crawled up to lie in her lap despite his size. He yawned as she scratched his ears, and Vulpes scoffed. "The softest mutt in all the Legion."

"He is, but I'm stuck with him." Hydra lifted his lips to reveal large, pointed and stained teeth. She made a growling noise, and Hades shook himself away. "He can't even pretend to be mean. Stupid dog."

She looked back up to the mildly amused Vulpes. His eyes were blue, she realised. A very interesting, pale blue, like how she imagined frost would look. It was quite dark, and his irises were like rings of light against the shadows. And then she realised that she had been staring for far too long than appropriate, and he was watching her.

"Yes?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hydra shook her head and looked away. "It's nothing." With Hades already dozing off on her lap, she decided to leave Vulpes the first watch. She curled up next to the hound, and in the red Mojave dust, she dreamed of memories.


	4. Return To Sender

_-As a side note, "bone vir" is roughly "sir" in Latin, for anyone wondering why she keeps saying it._

_-All chapters will be names after quests in New Vegas, whether they relate to the Legion or not._

_W'P_

"_The earth died screaming while I lay dreaming." –Tom Waits, "Earth Died Screaming" _

_-O-_

_A woman sat in a dim, smoky bar. It was, in all honesty, a tiny one-street shithole in the middle of bleeding, dusty nowhere. It was vile in every sense of the word. There were less than healthy prostitutes on most corners, and on the rest there were barely-disguised drug dealers. _

_She swirled her drink in its glass, not making eye contact with anyone. A healing, scabbed-over circle was printed into her forehead; the remnants of a bullet to the skull. Green eyes, sharp with fear, glanced around. People talked lowly, drank and occasionally chuckled. The bartender was watching her with a predatory leer. She edged away from him in her seat. _

_The quiet bubble in the world was burst, as all hell broke loose. _

_The door slammed open to reveal soldiers dressed in red, brandishing torches. People jumped to their feet, yelling about the Legion and running like chickens with their heads cut off. The woman was shoved over in the confusion, spilling her drink all over her shoulder and neck. She hit the floor and started crawling past dusty shoes and military boots. Someone kicked her side, though whether it was intentional or not she didn't know or care. _

_Her shirt ripped on one side as someone grabbed at her. She tried rolling away, instead fumbling into the counter and getting her leg stepped on. Pain crashed through her body as someone fell onto her in the confusion—the bartender from earlier. _

_He was snatching at her clothes, taking advantage of the panic. She kicked out at him and clawed at his face. Her nails dug into his skin, but he didn't let up and she wasn't nearly strong enough yet. _

_She was suddenly blinded by what felt like hot water, though she realised it was blood. She was coated in it, covered from head to toe. The dead weight of the headless bartender rested on her like a thousand tons. She heaved him off, sweat dripping down her neck. Above her, a few metres away, a Legion soldier lowered his gun from her. There was a second of eye contact, seeing each other as human being and not as slaver and victim. She tried to project her thanks through to him from her eyes, and he jerked his head very slightly to the door. _

_The sudden, stinging smell of smoke made her eyes water—the pub was burning. A torch dropped down next to her, and pain roared across her shoulder. With horror, she realised that the alcohol on her shoulder was burning. With renewed pain and adrenaline, she shoved through the kicking, panicking patrons to the door._

_The lightly irradiated air tasted like heaven outside. She took grateful gulps and coughed. Glancing around, it seemed the Legion was going to raze the town. Without a second glance at the place, she turned and ran. The skin on her shoulder felt like it was boiling, and she didn't care. The fire died away as she tore through the dead wastes, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. She was gasping and sobbing with every dry, raw inhale._

_Somewhere along the way, she found that her shoes had been lost in the fray, and the stones in the desert pricked her bare feet. At a glance behind her, the tiny town was now burning. _

-O-

Hydra woke with a flinch, smelling smoke and sweat. Sighing, she relaxed again and watched the fire. The embers flickered, dying in the chill desert night. Something cold touched her ear, and she almost jumped, but found that it was only Hades' wet nose. She reached back to scratch his ear, and then rolled away from the mutt, as he reeked of dog and dirt. Her side bumped into another something, and after a sniff and a hesitant touch, she decided it was a sleeping Vulpes, rolled away again, and sat up.

Across the dying fire, Charon sat with his shotgun at his side. He was watching her with an unreadable expression. She nodded at him and straightened her half mop of hair. "Charon."

"Venom." He greeted back.

"That is not my name any more." Hydra said. "No matter who you may have known me as, I am now Hydra and would prefer to be called such."

"As you wish. I apologise." Charon said quietly.

"No, no." Hydra rubbed her temples and scooted over to sit next to him. "I should be apologising. That was cold. Just so you know, I want you to speak your mind around me. I have jurisdiction over plenty of slaves already and have no need for one more. So, any questions, comments?"

He considered the inquiry. "You speak Latin now. You didn't before."

Hydra nodded. "Vulpes taught me after I joined the Legion. Most of the legionnaries speak at least a little, though as a higher-ranked member I am expected to know it fluently for communication reasons."

"How…" Charon seemed to be considering how to phrase the question. "How much power do you hold in the Legion?"

"The hierarchy in the Legion relies on skill in battle, and resourcefulness, unlike the profligate NCR, who ranks their members on shallow accomplishments and privilage. The Lord Caesar is our leader, and his second is Legate Lanius. The head of the Praetorian Guard is Lucius. The Praetorian only have one job, and that is to guard Lord Caesar, but that also covers regular watches around Fortification Hill."

"Where are you in all this?"

"Vulpes is the leader of the Frumentarii, trained in stealth and subterfuge—although we do also cover missions of…_education._"

"Education?"

"Some may call it terrorism, but we call it educating the dissolute." Hydra waved a hand dismissively. "I'm Vulpes' second and right hand. I carry out missions of more importance, as well as personal matters that require...a woman's wiles, one might say. I'm also the onlywoman in the entire Legion."

"The only woman." Charon nodded, looking almost amused. "You haven't changed much." He paused. "The crucifying and Latin are new."

"Don't be so condescending." She smirked. "We don't all carry wood beams and nails around. Although Vulpes and I crucified half a town last week. That's quite beside the point."

Hydra wasn't entirely sure why she felt so at ease around him. Perhaps it was her subconscious coming through, but she didn't usually listen to it. She found that little nagging voice in the back of her head to be a nuisance. Now, however, it seemed as though she were only meeting an old friend she hadn't seen in many years, and they were just getting reacquainted. She was friendly enough with Vulpes; in fact, as of recently she had been looking at him a little differently. But that was a matter for another time, something to shove back into the jurisdiction of the little voice in her head.

"May I ask you a question of a personal nature?" Charon broke the silence with the low question.

"Of course."

"He is…only your superior officer?"

Hydra almost laughed, but tried to scoff and ended up making a little choking cough instead. "Yes, yes. Well, Vulpes and I have a…interesting history." She answered vaguely.

Charon waited a few moments, and when it was clear she wasn't elaborating, said, "That is interesting."

"I would go into detail, but I get the sense this is no longer a private conversation. Rise and shine, bone vir." She looked straight to the "sleeping" Vulpes, who, having been discovered, straightened up.

"You're getting better and better every day, Hydra." He complimented dryly, brushing some reddish dirt off his already red tunic. "I may have trained you _too_ well."

"Mm, I may surpass you soon. And then whatever shall you do? You would be _my _right hand."

"I get the feeling there would be another nuclear holocaust before that happened." Vulpes looked to the east, where the horizon was slowly turning light pink. "We had better continue to Cottonwood."

-O-

The leader of the Frumentarii watched Hydra. After Lord Caesar's admission of his suspicions of her allegiances, he found he was watching her with increased vigilance. She seemed loyal enough, though the arrival of this ghoul from the past had him on edge. Their conversations, especially any revelations on her past allies, could let on some piece on information he might not otherwise have learned from the rather private Hydra.

His gaze wandered a little to her legs, exposed by the far-too-short tunic, and a few devious thoughts swirled around as he buckled on his armour. Charon suddenly cleared his throat, meeting Vulpes' gaze with a glare so sharply reproaching the frumentarius backed off—for the moment.

"If we walk all day, we can reach the Cove by late afternoon." Hydra said, strapping on her belt and drawing her machete. She gave the blade a few swings to balance it in her hand. "Let's go east until the shore and follow it south. The worst we'll find is a lakelurk or fire gecko."

"Here," Vulpes tossed her a whetstone, which she caught while barely looking. "Keep your blade sharp."

"Then, here," Hydra tossed a strip of dried brahmin jerky to him. "Eat something so I don't think you're starving to death, bone vir."

The exchange was so smooth it was like it was rehearsed. Neither thought much of it. Hydra checked her Pip-Boy and pointed east, and off they went. The sun rose high and seemed to hover above their head for weeks. Charon appeared unbothered by it, his skin only half there, but the exposed muscle weathered by the elements. Both Legionnaries, Vulpes especially, had serious sun burn. He never had to do much fieldwork, much less trekking through the desert. Hydra wasn't much better, as most of the time she followed Vulpes. Hours passed in the hellish noon as they worked their way south to the Cove.

"This heat is insufferable." She groaned, and would have hung her head if the burn on her neck weren't so horrible. "Charon, please tell me you have some sort of burn cream."

"I don't." The bodyguard admitted. "Sorry."

"Vulpes, do you have healing powder?" Her answer was a small, rolled-up paper bag tossed ahead to land right in her hands. "Gratias multas, bone vir. We can both use this amount."

Hydra stopped and turned to the shoreline. She walked to the edge of the water and knelt, pinching some healing powder into her hand and mixing it with water to make a thin paste. She rubbed it on the back of her neck and almost moaned. It was like beautiful, cooling ice. Vulpes joined her by the water and made a healing cream of his own to rub on his now bright red arms. He made a small noise like a sigh of relief.

"That is…lovely." Hydra sighed, mixing more. "Remind me to thank that girl. What was her name?"

"You don't remember her name?" Charon asked.

"No, she is but a slave girl." Hydra thought for a moment, raking her memory and oblivious to the surprised ghoul behind her. She snapped her fingers, slipping on the whitish cream. "Siri." She looked down into the water, blinking at her reflection. "Fancy a swim?"

"We should keep moving if we want to reach Cottonwood Cove by nightfall." Vulpes said.

"But I'm absolutely filthy and burning from the sun. A quick dip would be fine to cool down, for all of us."

"You can tend to your hygiene when we reach the Fort. No protests." He said sharply at her look. "We must keep moving or get caught after dark for another night."

Hydra sighed, but nodded tightly. "Of course, bone vir. Onwards."


End file.
